Tears of a Bird
by CrazyKindaGurl
Summary: Damon Salvatore is dead; or so everyone thought. Bonnie McCullough couldn't be in a worse state, heartbroken by a love never acted on. But when a late night visit changes everything, is there still hope? Short story set between Midnight and Phantom.


_Hey guys. So, I love The Vampire Diaries books (and show, but that's another thing entirely) and particularly love the pairing of Bamon (BonniexDamon.) NOT in the show. I ship Delena in the show, Bamon in the books, with Delena coming in second. So I decided to write a little something. This is set after Midnight, and at the beginningish of Phantom. I just changed things slightly, because I believe that if L.J Smith had written Phantom, she'd possibly have had Damon go to Bonnie instead of Elena. So here it is. Let me know what you think! :3 And look out for my Harry Potter and TVD crossover fic coming soon. This is a short story, btw. Not continuing. Enjoy. :D_

** Tears of a Bird.**

Get up. Force down some food. Plaster on a smile, and pretend everything is okay. Cry. Sleep. Dream. Cry. Sleep. Repeat.

This was the rather tedious and downright depressing cycle that had become Bonnie McCullough's life. Ever since saving Fell's Church, their small yet functional town, from all things supernatural, her life had been on a downward spiral. She should be happy; things were back to normal. Meredith had Alaric, even if he wasn't near. Elena had Stefan, and her family back. Children could live in peace, and the whole town knew nothing about the tragic events that had occurred not too long ago. Everyone had someone; apart from poor little Bonnie.

She hated that, she really did. The way everyone treated her like she was a baby, a lesser being compared. They couldn't _all _be beautiful angels who did no wrong like Elena, or calm, cool and collected yet pretty dark haired Meredith. They all had someone. Bonnie had her friends...supposedly. Even they seemed oblivious to their friend's awful state. But then, how could they know? How could they understand? She'd almost died, and the person who saved her took her place. Damon. Her Damon, whom she'd grown even closer to since their trip to the Dark Dimension. Damon, who she continued to love more with every passing day, even if he wasn't here.

His lack of presence left a bit, gaping hole in her life. For a while, the redhead hadn't believed it; refused to believe it. Damon couldn't be _dead. _She half expected him to pop up out of nowhere, with his trademark smirk and snarky comments. But, it just didn't happen. He was gone, however hard that was to believe. And oh, how she missed him...

_Don't think about it, don't think about it, _Bonnie instructed herself, a shudder running down her back. She was curled up on her bed, knees pulled to her chest. This was one of those moments, where she'd awoken somewhat randomly from a dreamless sleep, and begun to cry. And cry. Now, she had no tears left; only tear tracks and red puffy eyes she'd have to cover up, before putting on her usual mask of 'I'm okay' and getting on with the day. Now, she felt numb.

Nobody had a clue what this was doing to her. Nobody. Not even Elena and Meredith, who were supposed to be her best friends. Not even kind, observant Matt. She was a little withdrawn, was all. But everyone was too caught up in their own little lives to even consider her, most of the time.

Sighing, Bonnie looked at the clock. It was just past 4am; a little time left to sleep, then. Grabbing her iPod from a bedside draw, she selected her songs. It was a playlist she'd made, just after Damon's death. All her favourite songs. It was designed to calm her down, and drift her off to sleep. Sometimes it worked, but others...

The music played, and the girl tried to relax. But then, the song changed, and a small gasp left her lips. Why had she put this song on there? Of all the songs...

But still, it was too late now. The sweet notes and lyrics of what used to be one of her favourite songs drifted to her, and she let memories and grief consume her.

_How the hell does a broken heart_

_Get back together when it's torn apart?_

_Teach itself to start_

_Beating again ba ba ba ba._

_This little Bluebird came looking for you_

_Said that I hadn't seen you in quite some time_

_This little Bluebird, she came looking again_

_I said we weren't even friends, she could have you._

_Don't you think it was hard?_

_I didn't even say that you died_

_But it wouldn't have been such a lie_

'_Cause then I started to cry._

Oh, and she did start to cry, again. But it wasn't a Bluebird; it was a Redbird. Damon's voice came back, clear as day, as though it had been only yesterday that she'd heard it. _"Little Redbird! I'm going to go now, and make them pay for what they did to you." _She could feel the kiss, too. Oh, she could. The way his soft lips had met hers, how she felt exhilarated and dizzy - a good kind of dizzy, though, better than when she was almost thrown out the window not long before the kiss had taken place.

So many feelings had been in that moment. Excitement. Happiness. The realization that there were feelings of more than just friendship between them - or for Bonnie, at least. Confusion. Worry. Ecstasy. The positive feelings lasted for a long time. But then, the redhead thought about it. _Really _thought about it. Damon loved Elena. Just as it would always be Stefan for her friend, it would always be Elena for Damon. She was his Princess of Darkness - or would be, if she let him. What was a Redbird compared to that?

But now, none of it mattered. Damon was gone. Dead. Never to be seen again. And as the harsh reality drew Bonnie out of her memories, the very small walls of strength she'd begun to build up around herself came tumbling down around her all over again.

"Bonnie? Are you coming down to breakfast?" The quiet yet strong voice of Mr. McCullough was the first thing the girl heard that morning, despite being already awake. She was still curled up, staring blankly into space. Breakfast? How trivial. Damon would never eat again, even if he never needed it in the first place. Damon would never feed again. Damon would never _live. _No, Bonnie didn't want breakfast - she didn't want _anything, _other than the one thing that was impossible.

"N-no. I'm...not well. I think I'll stay in bed today," she replied, in a small, timid voice. She shivered, as if for effect, and pulled the covers more tightly around her. It was true, though - she _was _sick. She wasn't right. This wasn't _her. _Whatever this was, it was anything but right - and she was 'sick' of it.

Her Father agreed, and with an order to at least try and eat something, he left, announcing that she had the house to herself since he was visiting her sister, Mary. Normally, Bonnie would have gone too - more to keep the peace between her Father and her sister's boyfriend. But, as already discovered, this wasn't normal. Nothing was, anymore.

She slept. She cried. She slept some more. She was starting to sound like Bella Swan, from _Twilight, _that _ridiculous _interpretation of so called vampires, but right now, Bonnie was past caring if she sounded like a Mary Sue - a fictional character who is overly and needlessly emotional. She might be emotional, but she had a very good reason to be.

There were texts from Elena, Meredith and even Matt, asking if she was okay, if she wanted to go out. It was summer, they told her. The summer after they'd graduated - the summer before they all went to Dalcrest College in the fall. Bonnie assured them that she was just sick, and when they offered to visit, made up some story about it being highly infectious. Whether they believed it, the red head would never know - but really, she was past caring.

It was mid afternoon, when she first heard it. A slight tapping on her window frame; light enough to be fingertips, but with a slightly urgent feel. Trying to convince herself it was just paranoia of being home alone, that it was really just a light summer breeze, Bonnie did her best to ignore it. But then, the voice started. At first, she thought it was her imagination. She was hallucinating, now? Her mental state was worse than she thought. _Redbird. Little Redbird, let me in. Bonnie. Baby bird, open up._

It was just a whisper, seeming to be carried by the wind. Yet, it became clearer and clearer, like the frequency was being properly tuned in. Finally, Bonnie could resist no more. She had to check, right? It was her imagination, it had to be - yet she knew, she wouldn't rest easy until she saw for sure.

The redhead stood up, wincing at her stiff bones from being in bed for so long. It was hot in the room, anyway - letting a little air in would help. Yet still, she couldn't do it. Her whole body was shaking with nerves, as she approached the window. All she had to do was reach out, and pull back the blinds. Almost there...just a little more...

_Stop being a wimp, Bonnie! If you're going to want people to take you seriously, you have to be more brave; starting now. _Her little inner conversation seemed to help though, and the Witch held out a trembling hand, drawing back the blind, and...

She just about managed to stop herself from screaming - _just. _Instead, a loud gasp left her wide open mouth, as she stared at the sight - _person - _in front of her. This was impossible. It was impossible, but there he was. He looked so..._normal. _Exactly the same as he had done last time she'd seen him - alive, anyway. Leather jacket, simple shirt, same old trousers. Trademark smirk, tussled hair; dark eyes telling a million different stories. Exactly the same. There he was. But it was impossible.

Damon.

"Hello, Redbird." His voice was the same, too. An eyebrow arched, in exactly the same manner; eyes scanning her face, waiting to gauge her reaction.

For a moment, Bonnie stood there, gawping gormlessly. Then, she tried to speak - or at least string _some _coherent words together.

"I-I-I...that's impossible! You're _dead!" _she blurted, biting on her lip. "I mean...I _saw _you die! You can't be here! You're _dead, _Damon!" Bonnie wailed.

Damon, of course, just laughed. "It's great to see you, too. Clearly, I'm not dead, since I'm here. But I would like to come in if I may - hanging out of a window isn't really my style." The logical part of Bonnie's mind - however small - that still remained reminded her that he didn't _need _to be invited in; he already had, many months ago. No, Damon was doing it out of _courtesy; _something you wouldn't expect from his type.

The girl nodded, still looking stunned as she watched the vampire climb in. It was like she was in a dream, or watching a scene from a bird's eye view - oh, the irony - not like she was actually seeing and living the moment. Before she knew what was happening, Damon had taken her hand, and led her back to the bed. There, he looked deeply into her eyes, and even now, she lost herself in them. Dark pools, holding many secrets, stories and so much more. She always had loved his eyes.

"You've not been taking care of yourself, Redbird," he murmured, a hand brushing some of her tattered and unbrushed hair away from her face. She flinched at the touch, surprised to find that she could feel him. But he wasn't real. Hallucinations weren't meant to be able to touch you though, were they?

"You've been crying," Damon observed, and for the first time Bonnie considered how she might look. Awful, was the answer, but she had more pressing matters.

"You can't be here," she insisted, voice full of emotions. Her own hazel eyes filled with tears, the beautiful colour glistening. "I- you - you died!"

Damon gave a dark chuckle, taking her hand. Again, she flinched. He had an idea, then. Leaning forward, he let his lips meet her soft ones, engaging in a fiery, passionate kiss filled of a million emotions. Bonnie, although reluctant at first, soon got into it, taking him hungrily, drinking him in. When they broke apart, she was breathing fast, cheeks flushed. As their eyes met again, Bonnie knew one thing, and one thing only; he wasn't dead. There was no way that a hallucination could kiss that well.

And she knew another thing, also; nothing between her and Damon would ever be the same again.


End file.
